


Hold On To Me

by hellobhav



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 04:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8272112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellobhav/pseuds/hellobhav
Summary: Steve and Sharon have never quite spend the night. Sharon wonders if it's because Steve gets nightmares.(Cute fluffy comfort fic for Sharon Carter Appreciation Day!)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to do a coffee shop au for Sharon Carter Appreciation Day but this happened instead. I'll try to get the coffee shop au done for next month but in the meantime, enjoy this!  
> P.S. I was inspired by X Ambassador's Unsteady while listening to this, so go ahead and put that on for added feels.

They wouldn't say that they're  _ a thing _ , but everyone else would. If you're looking for Sharon, odds are Steve knows where she is, and vice versa. 

 

But no one knows that they haven't exactly spent the night together.

 

Sure, they've  _ slept _ together - the sex is  _ really _ nice, Sharon thinks - but they've never really  _ spent the night _ . 

 

Sharon thinks Steve isn't comfortable with it, because he's always found a reason to either walk her home, or head home. 

 

Tonight, though, it's later than they've realised. They've been talking on the couch, just talking, Sharon's legs stretched out in Steve's lap, Steve's fingers playing in Sharon's hair. Neither of them is aware of just how much time has passed, not until the sounds of an argument from one of Sharon's neighbours filters into her apartment. That's when she realises that it's at least half past midnight, because that's when Sharon's neighbours usually argue, on Tuesdays and Saturdays, just like clockwork.

 

She talks him into staying, finally. Tells him that she doesn't exactly live in a wonderful neighbourhood and it's not safe to be out at night. Steve looks like he's about to argue, to tell her that he can take care of himself, but Sharon wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him on the lips and tells him that he's staying and that's that.

 

Steve relents. 

 

How she's got a queen-sized bed in her little apartment is a secret she'll take to her grave, but it comes in handy when someone's staying the night. 

 

He wriggles out of his jeans - a t-shirt and boxers will do, he decides. Sharon changes into a tank top and boxers, white and pink, which aren't colours that Steve would associate with Sharon.

 

Steve's nervous when he climbs into her bed, gets under her covers. He lays on his back stiffly, hands folded over his stomach because he doesn't know what to do with them. Sharon climbs in after him. Where Steve lays completely still, Sharon wriggles about under the covers until she settles in. 

 

She asks if Steve minds if she cuddles up to him, and he says no, so she curls against him, draping an arm over his waist as she murmurs a goodnight. It's almost like her touch gives him permission to relax because he finally does, and he shifts to wrap an arm around her and holds her close and finally closes his eyes.

 

They fall asleep slowly, Sharon before Steve. Something about Steve has her drifting into a deeper sleep than she usually has, and it isn't long before she's snoring softly. 

 

Neither of them are light sleepers - happens, in their line of work. 

 

Steve's up first, jolted awake from a nightmare at 2 in the morning. He sits up, panting like he's just run a marathon. Beads of sweat trickle down his forehead, down his cheeks, pooling on the collar of his shirt as he pushes a hand in his hair and closes his eyes.

 

Sharon wakes too - Steve jerking awake startles her. Still half asleep, she blinks at him, watching as he slips out of bed, quieter than anyone would expect for someone of his build. For a moment, she stays in bed. Then, through her sleepy haze, a voice in her head tells her he's had a nightmare.

 

She pushes herself out of bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she makes for the kitchen. She's no stranger to nightmares and she's got things that she does whenever she has one. Maybe they'll help Steve too. 

 

As she waits for two cups of water to boil, two bags of chamomile tea in two mugs, she wonders if this is why they've never spent the night. 

 

She glances out to her fire escape, where she's heard Steve go out to, and she lets him have some time to himself as the tea steeps. She adds in a little honey, tosses out the teabags and takes the two mugs out to the fire escape.

 

Getting out there with both hands full is tricky, but Sharon's handled trickier. Steve's surprised when she settles next to him and holds out a mug, though he accepts it gratefully. 

 

They sit out there in silence for a bit. Sharon leans against him, like she's reminding him that she's there, and Steve's grateful for that too. 

 

"I'm sorry," Steve finally says, breaking the silence. "I didn't mean to wake you."

 

Sharon shakes her head, waves it off. "Don't," she tells him, simple and firm. "It happens to the best of us. You don't have to hide it from me, Steve. I get them too."

 

Steve probably shouldn't be surprised by her admission, but he is. He glances over at Sharon, but she's looking down into her mug. 

 

"We'll get through it together, Steve, okay?" She looks up at him. Even in the dim light from the street lights, he can see the earnestness and the sincerity in her brown eyes. "You don't have to keep it from me."

 

Steve nods, leaning in to touch his forehead to hers. "Thanks, Shar."

 

"Hey, Steve?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

"I love you."

 

He can  _ hear _ her smiling, and he can't help smiling too. "I love you too."

 


End file.
